


Kind of Perfect

by Rethira



Series: The Providence Pet Rescue Shelter [1]
Category: Cable and Deadpool, Marvel
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rethira/pseuds/Rethira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Wade is a Sphynx with a skin condition, and Nate is a one eyed, three legged Irish Wolfhound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [简直完美](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011959) by [yezixx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yezixx/pseuds/yezixx)



Wade didn’t entirely know how this had happened, but he’s somehow been adopted as the official mascot of Providence Pet Rescue Shelter.

He suspects that probably all the nicer, prettier cats had been bitches to all the humans, which hah! Shows them. Ugly but friendly wins every time. That’ll show all those beautiful douchecanoes.

Of course, this does come with an inherent problem; _everyone_ wants to pet him, _all_ the time. Even while he’s sleeping, hell, _especially_ while he’s sleeping. And then they’re all like “Ooh, poor thing, lookit all your _scars_ and shit,” and then Wade really wanted to break out the claws and say “Uh _excuse me_ , it’s called a skin condition, maybe if your eyes weren’t useless human eyes you’d be able to see that.” Unfortunately, the bastards who’d had Wade before Providence got their grubby mitts on him had seen fit to declaw him. As well as de-man him, although Wade had made his thoughts about _that_ really clear, even if it had led to the declawing.

They hadn’t got his teeth, that was the main thing. And he’d escaped anyway, clawless, ball-less, sunburnt and all, and then Providence had picked him up and cooed over him and done a load of bullshit, but hey, it was better than the last place. Two meals, regular as clockwork, plus some nice humans to massage his skin when it was _really_ itchy.

‘s far as Wade’s concerned, he’s leading the life of the truly privileged, and if the stuck up snooty cats couldn’t see that, well fuck them.

Wade is napping on the front desk – better to freak out the newbies as soon as possible, instead of wait ‘til later to find out they suck – when there’s some really loud cursing and then someone drags a _massive_ thing in through the front door. It snaps, but it doesn’t sound scared, or _angry_ just – Wade wrinkles his nose and peers down from his perch. It smells vaguely annoyed and confused, and whoa, it has been through the _wars_ or something.

“My daughter found it. Called it Priscilla, a’fore I told ‘er we wouldn’t be keepin’ it,” the human says, keeping a tight hold on the thing’s leash. “Figured nowhere else’d be barmy enough to take it.”

Humans, Wade sighs. They never use their eyes for the big things. Or their noses. Poor thing; to be thought a girl when he’s packing like that. Also did the guy dig his accent out of a trashcan or something?

After that he leaves as quickly as he can, and the thing is hustled off by experienced humans to have that most dreaded of all things; a bath. It comes back a couple of hours later, by which time Wade has half forgotten about it. But then there’s suddenly a commotion and the massive thing comes barrelling through the swingy doors and skitters across the slidey floor and bangs into the wall.

Wade sniggers.

“I’ve got him!” one of the humans yells, and they tackle the thing and wrestle a shiny collar and leash onto him. “There we go,” the human continues. “There’s a good dog.”

Huh. Wade never would’ve guessed.

“He’s fast for a dog with three legs,” one of the other humans grumbles, and then they drag the giant grey dog away and out of Wade’s sight.

He makes a note to go and have a look later, and promptly falls asleep and starts drooling a bit.

About a week later, Wade remembers the giant dog and wonders what happened to it. Luckily, a few meows here and there and some agitated purring and suddenly the doors to the dog kennels are open wide. Who ever said you needed a pretty face to open doors?

It takes Wade a while, but eventually he manages to find the dog he’s looking for. He’s in the back, flopped on the ground and staring mournfully at the kennel door.

“Hey, Priscilla,” Wade greets, poking his nose against the bars of the cage. Priscilla doesn’t smell dangerous, so Wade isn’t too worried. Not like he is with _some_ of the dogs. Or some of the cats. Emma really hadn’t appreciated him nudging her butt that one time, and yeah, Wade has the scars to prove it.

The dog sighs and rolls his one eye. “That’s not my name,” he says.

“Yeah, I _can_ read, y’know. Says here your name is Cable, but that’s _boring._ ” Wade sniffs. _Humans_. Poor, naked, stupid creatures.

“That’s not my name either,” the dog says. “My name is Nathan Christopher Charles Summers Dayspring Askani’son.”

Wade stares. “Your parents must’ve hated you _so_ much,” he breathes.

The dog – _Nate_ , Wade thinks, he can work with Nate – sighs again. “My father was a purebred Irish Wolfhound,” he says. “It’s the fashion for us to have names like that. I wouldn’t expect a cat to know.”

Wade has to giggle. “Full points for not calling me an _ugly_ cat there, but I’m gonna have to wonder how a fancy special pure breed got all roughed up like you. Call me crazy, but _I_ thought purebreds weren’t allowed to go around losing eyes and limbs.”

Obviously that’s the wrong thing to say; Nate gets up and turns around, pretty obviously shutting Wade out. Hah, joke’s on him, Wade can totally crawl through those bars. It only takes him like, three minutes, and then he stalks around to Nate’s head again.

“Hey again, Nate,” Wade says.

“How did you get in?” Nate asks, sounding mystified.

“Good thing about being a cat is dog cages don’t tend to hold me,” Wade replies. “So, what’s your story? How ‘bout we do the you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine thing?”

“Hmm,” Nate says, and Wade would swear he was smiling. “Maybe.”

Nate pointedly goes to sleep as soon as he’s said it, but Wade can totally deal – he climbs onto Nate’s back and goes to sleep there, wiry fur and all. Words are for chumps.

Nate insists on being all mysterious and shit after that, so Wade only gets to learn about him in bits and pieces. Even the stupid things, like Nate preferring children to adults, and being the nicest giant ass dog in the world, or the ridiculous way he always _knows_ which humans are friendly and which ones aren’t. He even sets Wade wise to this fugly dog called Rhino, so Wade makes _extra_ sure to pee in his kibble. When you’re the mascot you can get away with _everything_ , especially if you charm the humans by way of an unlikely friendship with a giant grizzled dog.

Nate doesn’t know how good he’s got it.

Sure, there’s a bit of a sketchy moment when Wade tries to scratch him with claws he doesn’t have, but Nate is like, super awesome at defunking Wade.

The first time he does it by trying to cross his eyes. Hey shut up, watching a one eyed dog cross its one eye is hilarious, and Wade will puke on your shoes if you say otherwise. Also Nate doesn’t mind Wade washing his butt around him; the ultimate sign of friendship, in other words.

“Why don’t the humans ever try to rehome you?” Nate asks one day, twisting his shaggy head to try and peer over his shoulder and see Wade. Seeing as Wade is nestled between Nate’s shoulder blades, this is not a battle Nate is going to win.

“I’m _special_ ,” Wade replies, which should be the end of it, but Nate is like, super perceptive so it isn’t.

“It’s because of your skin, isn’t it?” he asks, his great big doggy voice sounding sad.

“Probably,” Wade concedes. “Humans are a shallow bunch. Would’ve thought they’d _like_ me. I’m naked like _they_ are, but nooooo, I’m not floofy enough, I’m all _wrinkly_ and gross.”

“You’re not,” Nate says, because he’s kind of a doof. “You’re pretty.”

Wade pauses in his wash. No-one’s ever called him pretty before. “Well maybe it’s the claw thing too,” he says. “The dudes from before weren’t so cool with claws in their faces.” Wade waves a paw where Nate can see it. “I went to sleep and when I woke up all my feet had no claws left.” He sighs. “‘s a shame; would’ve liked to scratch that bastard Wolverine once or twice.”

Nate whines and drops his head to the ground. “My mother was a bit of a mutt,” he says. “Bit of red setter, bit of wolfhound, bit of everything. Pretty, everyone told me. But not a pure breed.” His tail thumps against the ground, which _almost_ distracts Wade from what he’s saying.

“Bet your dad got in trouble for you then,” Wade says instead of pouncing on Nate’s tail.

Nate’s ears shift a bit and he whines again. “I don’t know. They sent me away before I really knew anything; my leg wasn’t right.” Well, that explains _that_. Wade licks at Nate’s left shoulder in what could possibly be called a comforting manner. If y’know, this wasn’t Wade. Wade only did it because Nate’s fur was tasty. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

Words were still for chumps, so Wade fell asleep after that, and made extra sure to drool on Nate’s neck. Some dumb human takes a picture of it, and suddenly all these other humans are coming round Providence and trying to adopt Wade. And _Nate_ , which Wade _really_ takes offense to, because hey dudes, uncool. They already stole Weasel from Wade – Weasel’d been a skinny sort of cat, with too long legs and scruffy fur – so fur was gonna fly if they tried to do the same to Nate.

Figurative fur, obviously. None of the other cats would let Wade near their fur, not after he stole a bunch from Charles. Wasn’t like Charles needed it; he was _always_ shedding and hacking up fur balls, but Erik got all pissy about it and all the cats started hoarding their fur like it was precious mouse or something.

Anyway, off topic.

Point was; Nate was Wade’s best bud, and no-one was going to steal the big lug from Wade this time.

The humans were probably confused by Wade suddenly taking up residence in Nate’s kennel (apart from at dinner times), but then, humans were confused by _everything_. Poor little things, just couldn’t understand complex things like _not stealing Wade’s friends_.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Nate grumbles. He thinks he’s being gruff, but Wade can read him like a book these days, and that one eye of his is all kinds of soft. He’s like a really big mouse. Tasty and good for sleeping on. Too big to eat though. Shame.

“That’s what they all say,” Wade replies, brightly. He’s been at the catnip. Shut up, catnip made everything _shiny_ and then sleepy. Nate was a really good pillow, all huge and warm and sweet, like a duck.

Wade giggles. Nate-duck. Wade giggles some more, and falls over.

“No-one’s going to adopt me, Wade,” Nate continues, because he has an overestimated sense of Wade’s cognitive functions. “I’m too old, too lame. Three legs and one eye, Wade,” Nate says. He has dog breath, but it’s a step up from Beast’s fish breath. “Humans see me and think about all the difficulties.” He nudges Wade with his wet nose, and Wade sneezes.

“I love you, Nate-duck,” Wade says, and then he falls asleep.

Eventually, the humans twig that Nate is awesome and let him wander around as he pleases, like Wade does. Wade uses the opportunity to ride around on Nate’s back, which would be easier if Nate had four legs and Wade had claws.

“Damn your non-stick hide,” Wade curses as he falls off of Nate’s back for the sixteenth time that day.

Nate just laughs a great big stupid doggy laugh, and then he picks Wade up like Wade’s a kitten or something – and Emma makes kissy noises at him, he’s _never_ gonna win back his street cred at this rate – and dumps him in the massive basket they share in the lobby.

Nate licks Wade’s ear and gets slobber _everywhere_ and ewewewew he’s so _gross_.

“Why’d I ever make friends with you anyway?” Wade grumbles, rubbing his face against Nate’s shaggy fur.

“Can’t get rid of me now,” Nate says, grinning fondly.

“Yeah well, you’re gonna be stuck with me _forever_. I’m gonna be your _tumour_ , you’re stuck with me ‘til you _die_ ,” Wade announces.

Nate just keeps on grinning, because he doesn’t know a threat when it smacks him in the face.

“Aren’t you two _sweet_?” the human of the day coos, and oh man, she is just _asking_ for a butt washing.

Wade makes a protesting yowl, but it’s kind of rendered moot by Nate tucking Wade under his chin.

“I hate you,” Wade grouses.

“No you don’t,” Nate replies.

It’s kind of perfect, pun definitely intended.

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.mentalhealthquestions.biz/26/sphynx-cat.jpg) is a Sphynx and [this](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6e/Irish_Wolfhound_Sam.jpg) is an Irish Wolfhound. Irish Wolfhounds, while not consistently the biggest dogs in the world, can grow larger than a Great Dane. [Here](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images15/IrishWolfhoundFrankBrendan.JPG) is a picture of one towering over its owner. Despite their size and the fact that they were bred to hunt wolves, they're usually gentle enough. Strictly speaking, Nate is a crossbreed, so he'd likely be smaller and with a different coat/body shape to a normal Irish Wolfhound.
> 
> Sphynx's apparently have very soft skin, like most cats, but their appearance tends to put people off. Declawing is the act of removing the last joint on an animal's toe; on humans it would be equivalent to cutting off the tip of all your fingers. Some people are in favour of doing this to their cats because they dislike them scratching things/people.


End file.
